What in Hell
by Hoplite308
Summary: The Covenant has located Earth... well, sort of. It's not the Earth they were expecting. This story's plot is going to be written by... YOU! Message me with your ideas for this story, and I will probably put them in. See Chapter 1 for details. Will include blood, gore, and the kind of violence your mom won't let you see on TV, sprinkled with humor as it comes to me.
1. Chapter 1

So, here's my intro to this work-in-progress in the little-used Halo/Fallout Crossover section. I know the back-story on the Fallout Universe is a little long, but think about it: wastelanders don't stand a snowball's chance in hell against the Covenant without some boosting and organization, so I did my best to remain true to the Fallout idea and give them a realistic, not OP, boost in the way of manufacturing (modeled after the Pitt, minus slaves), reverse-engineered alien weapons (Mothership Zeta probably has engineering records and diagrams for them to study, so that's completely possible), energy shields (based on a different concept than the Covenant), more powerful weapons (thanks to manufacturing), and a population that can sustain an army large enough to give the Covenant a good fight. If you don't feel like reading it, that's fine, but it's the basis for the rest of my fanfic. And just to say this once to cover my rear, I don't own anything in this story except OM. Bethesda and Bungie, keep Fallout and Halo. I'm not saying this again.

* * *

Reach has fallen. The Covenant has amassed the largest fleet in all of recorded history for the final assault on Earth to destroy the human race. Humanity desperately scrambles to amass defenses both in space and on the ground against the seemingly unstoppable might of the Covenant, while Arbiter Thel Vadumee makes his final preparations. Little do they know that they are not the only forces at work in this universe… or the other one...

* * *

Halo Weapons in Fallout stats (tell me if you disagree, and I'm going off of Halo: Reach via Halo Nation and Fallout: New Vegas via Nukapedia):

Human

M6G Magnum

-DPA: 42

-DPS: 163.1

-WGT: 6.5

-Shots/Rel: 8

-Atk/Sec: 3.88

-ACC: 0.15

-Ammo Bonus: -12 DT (_semi_-armor-piercing), +2 DAM vs. non-robots (explosive)

MA37 Assault Rifle

-DPA: 40 (comparable to Automatic Rifle (Dead Money) of Fallout: New Vegas)

-DPS: 400

-WGT: 15

-Shots/Rel: 32

-Atk/Sec: 10 (pulled this straight from the wiki, don't be hatin')

-ACC: 0.09

-Ammo Bonus: 1.3xDAM, -15 DT (I agree that it seems OP in Fallout, but remember, Fallout got some upgrades, too)

M392 DMR Designated Marksman Rifle

-DPA: 55 (comparable to This Machine of Fallout: New Vegas)

-DPS: 137.5

-WGT: 10

-Shots/Rel: 15

-Atk/Sec: 2.5 (I'm choosing to make this gun a semi-auto version only so that I can accurately do damage calculation against anything from Fallout that might happen)

-ACC: 0.01

-Ammo Bonus: none

M45 TS Shotgun

-DPA: 10x15

-DPS: 135

-WGT: 7

-Shots/Rel: 6

-Atk/Sec: 0.9

-ACC: 0.9

-Ammo Bonus: none

SRS99 Sniper Rifle

-DPA: 140 (there is no bullet in Fallout nearly the size of a 14.5x114mm; .50 cal is actually significantly smaller [approximate conversion to cal: .57])

-DPS: 175

-WGT: 15

-Shots/Rel: 4

-Atk/Sec: 1.25

-ACC: 0.00001 (If it's not, it better be with all the advanced technology the UNSC has at its disposal)

-Ammo Bonus: HE: +2 DAM vs non-robots; AP: -15 DT

To be continued... [If you want to weigh in, make sure you get the caliber as close as possible to something in Fallout and estimate the weight if Halo Nation doesn't have it]

* * *

Nobel Six has been recalled from Nobel Team. He and newly-revived Master Chief Petty Officer John-117, along with a small team of Spartans known as Maverick Team, join the defense of Earth as Nobel Team assists with the evacuation. Aboard the UNSC _Feathersoft_, a stealth ship specifically designed to be all but invisible to Covenant forces, they spy on the Covenant armada preparing to launch the last leg of their genocidal campaign against the human race. But... which human race will they _really_ target?

* * *

After the successful initiation of Project Purity and elimination of the Enclave, Jacob King disappeared for a time. The Savior of the Wasteland decided that he needed to get away from the Capitol Wasteland, and so he set off for New Vegas. There, he arrived just in time to help the Courier in his successful coup against not only Mr. House and the Families Three, but the Legion and the NCR.

During this time, he became good friends with Clint Thompson, now known as the all-powerful ruler of the Mojave (formerly the Courier), and was introduced to his friends at the Think Tank and the Western Brotherhood of Steel. Being a natural scientist, he made full use of the technological advances at his disposal and partnered with the Gun Runners to make the most successful weapon factory in history, eventually taking over what used to be the Tops Casino for his manufacturing. After a while, his heart turned toward home, and he returned to the Capitol Wasteland a very, very rich man.

The Capitol Wasteland, on the other hand, was not so well off. With the Super Mutants gone, deathclaws had taken over the Wasteland, overrunning everything but Rivet City. Almost everyone had taken refuge there, unable to fight the massive hoards of deathclaws that killed everything in sight. Not even the Brotherhood were immune. Jacob took it upon himself to transport hundreds of his personally-designed advanced weapons and armor to the survivors, which eventually turned the tide.

After several years of fighting, the Capitol Wasteland was almost completely free of the scourge. Several new weapons had been designed in the meantime, specifically engineered to kill deathclaws. New types of power armor or modified, older suits, impervious to deathclaw strikes and possessing none of the agility problems of the old power armor, were considered standard-issue by the guards of the new settlements. Megaton, Underworld, and Paradise Falls were re-settled and re-built to withstand attacks.

After the Capitol Wasteland united under the flag of the Eastern Republic, peace like no one had ever seen in their lifetime reigned over the otherwise barren wastes. Thanks to the common enemy presented by the deathclaws, most Raiders gave up their ways in exchange for security in Rivet City. Manufacturing created new markets for scrap metal, and Vertibirds soon began regular cargo and passenger service between the Republic and the Mojave Confederacy.

During this time, the Mojave had been busy as well. After earthquakes drove them from Eden, the Dead Horses and Sorrows had made their way to New Vegas where they sought Clint's help in finding a new home. Clint was more than willing to give it to them, and after a little negotiating he managed to convince the Great Khans to allow them to live in the nearby canyons in exchange for some of Jacob's weapons. Although relations were a little rough at first, the Khans eventually realized that these apparently "primitive" people had something to offer in the way of survival skills and tracking abilities. Not to mention their women were really easy on the eyes.

The hostile Super Mutants of Black Mountain were eventually killed off, and the friendly Super Mutants of Jacobstown became very successful in trading and offering their services as body guards and caravan guards. All seemed well until the Legion invaded again. This time they were largely successful, and might have completely succeeded in wiping out every living human in the Mojave Wasteland had it not been for the timely intervention of a lone wolf named Jackal and her yao guai named Bear. As it was, the legion leveled all of New Vegas using a left-over nuclear bomb. Fortunately, most of the citizens of New Vegas were evacuated by Vertibirds to the Capitol Wasteland, where they did their best to settle in, opening up casinos in the Capitol Building and Rivet City with some casino equipment that they had been able to save.

The Jacobstown Super Mutants found that they were somewhat unwelcome, but after Vault 101 suffered a radiation leak (Butch was the chief suspect in this, but never convicted) they took over for the displaced Vault dwellers, again opening a successful trading outpost and bodyguard service. With the help of Fawkes, they were eventually accepted by the Brotherhood of Steel. The now twice-displaced residents of Eden and the Great Khans made a home for themselves in Grayditch, along with the residents of Vault 101. The former Vault dwellers were somewhat uneasy at first, but they eventually came to realize that these strange people who showed more of their bodies than the modest vaulties would ever dare to think about showing knew how to survive, and so they started learning from each other. Both the Sorrows and the Dead Horses adopted a more modest manner of dressing that gave them better protection from the cold weather of the East Coast and somewhat resembled a combination of Raider Sadist and Blastmaster armors for the Sorrows and Raider Commando and Painspike armors for the Dead Horses. The Vault Dwellers did not turn to such measures, but they did armor their jumpsuits with pieces of leather armor and combat armor for better protection against the nasty little creatures that still roamed the Wastes.

Sometime around the year 2302, Vault 114 opened to the south of the Capitol Wasteland. This Vault was an experiment in cryogenic preservation, and it actually succeeded. For 225 years, the people of Vault 114 slept. When they awoke, they were immediately confronted with slaver gangs, only to be rescued by Jackal, Bear, and Charon, who had become good friends with Jackal. This was quite the welcome into the new world for these pre-war people who had no prior knowledge of slavers, ghouls, or yao guais. They, too, settled into Grayditch, which by this time had gotten pretty busy. A strange melting pot of vault dwellers, pre-war citizens, ex-raiders, and tribals slowly but surely grew into a large city by the standards of the Wasteland, second only to Rivet city in sheer population.

By this time, Jacob had married his childhood friend Amata and settled down in Megaton to raise their two children, James II and Sara. James followed in his father's footsteps and joined the Brotherhood of Steel when he turned 16 in 2309, while Sara turned her mind towards reverse engineering the technology behind the Zeta aliens' weapons with the help of the Think Tank, which communicated with her via video call. She enjoyed some modest success, and sold the plans for a mass-producible version of the Disintegrator Rifle to the Brotherhood of Steel for a large amount of money. James II, meanwhile, had ascended to the rank of Star Paladin and been accepted as the new leader of the Lions' Pride. Unfortunately, he was killed in a building collapse in 2315.

In 2319, Sara married the oldest son of Clint and Rose of Sharon Cassidy, Kyle Thompson, who was a Paladin in the Brotherhood of Steel and leader of a tier-1 assault squad. Kyle's younger twin brothers, Brad and Boone, also joined the Brotherhood in 2322. All three brothers were excellent shots, but in different ways. Kyle was much like his parents in that he was good with long guns, but neither Brad nor Boone could handle one and hit the broad side of a barn. Brad took to heavy energy weapons and always carried a Gatling laser with him, while Boone opted for smaller, plasma-based weapons, citing their increased damage output and higher maneuverability as reasons. Somewhere along the line, Boone got the scientist gene and started messing around with his plasma rifles. He came up with a full-auto plasma rifle that used two plasma emitters. He called it the "Green Scream." All seemed well in the Capitol Wasteland, what with the population back up to about 24% of the pre-war numbers, until one fateful day in May of 2327…

* * *

List of technology that is new or changed from cannon Fallout weapons:

Medium/Large Caliber Ammo – Due to the threat of the Deathclaws, standard and hollow-point versions of ammo were discontinued. All Medium/Large Caliber Ammo is armor-piercing. This ammo is mass-produced in the Pitt.

R91 Assault Rifle – The R91 was reverse-engineered by the Gun Runners in 2285. They combined their knowledge of this rifle, the Chinese Assault Rifle, and the LMG to create the B4 Assault Rifle, which combined the DPS of the LMG, the power of the Chinese Assault Rifle, and the durability of the R91 into one rifle. They re-made this rifle into three variants: the B4-A, B4-S, and B4-L. The B4-A was equipped with a grenade launcher and boasted a laser sight on the left side. The B4-S was equipped with a select-fire trigger, long-range sights, and an extended barrel. The B4-L was made shorter than the others, blurring the line between the Assault Rifle and the SMG, and was equipped with a night-vision sight and an under-barrel shotgun.

T-45d Power Armor – The T-45d Power Armor was discontinued as the standard-issue armor of the Brotherhood of Steel in 2293 in favor of the T-51b. The T-45d is still in use among civilians, but is usually heavily up-armored.

T-51b Power Armor – The T-51d Power Armor was adopted as the standard-issue Power Armor of the Eastern Brotherhood of Steel in 2293. There are upgrades present, such as night-vision lenses, titanium plates (DT of 35 instead of 25), and upgraded servos that allow for more strength without sacrificing agility (in Fallout terms, this means that it has +2 Strength instead of +1). They are also equipped with energy shields (more on those later).

T-53a Power Armor – The T-53a Power armor is a combination of Enclave Power Armor technology and the T-51b Power Armor. In Fallout: New Vegas terms, it has a DT of 50, HP of 2500, WT of 42, Strength bonus of +2, and an RR of +35. It is equipped with night-vision. It is issued to Brotherhood VIPs and Special Forces personnel such as the Lion's Pride. Most have some form of modification, usually either more defense in the form of extra titanium/ballistic plates or built-in weapons such as Power Fists, shotguns, or bladed weapons. In addition, it carries a shield generator that allows it to absorb (not disperse) the energy from energy weapons for a total of twenty fast shots with a Plasma Rifle or over fifty fast shots with a Laser Rifle.

[Author's Note: The energy shields used by the Elites, Brutes, and Spartans use energy to disperse the unwanted energy over the entire shield (hence the glow over the whole body), and so power down with use. The energy shield used by the BoS actually absorbs the energy and stores it in its batteries, kind of like a self-powering lightning rod, if that makes any sense. The difference is, Halo shields just drop for a few seconds while BoS shields literally vent all of their electricity in a giant EMP wave frying electronics and essentially disabling the suit permanently. They can take more hits, but when they're over-taxed it's lights-out.]

Combat Armor – Adopted as the standard armor of the militias of Megaton, Grayditch, and Rivet City, the Combat Armor Reinforced, Mark II is mass-produced by the East Coast Gun Runners. Unchanged from its original form, except for different colors to signify where the wearer is from, this armor gives decent protection against both energy-based and ballistic-based weapons, able to take about two shots from a Plasma Rifle before showing a hole.

Metal Blaster – The Metal Blaster brought back from the Pitt by Jacob King was used as the base model for a new Laser Shotgun, distinctly different from the Tri-Beam Laser Rifle in that it requires no more energy than the standard Laser Rifle. This weapon was issued to the Brotherhood of Steel as an optional back-up primary weapon.

Green Scream – This is a unique variant of the Plasma Rifle created by Boone Thompson. It features two emitters side-by-side running off of the same battery firing in a chain. Each emitter is just as powerful as a normal plasma rifle, and it is fully automatic with a fire rate that is 1.9x faster than the fastest speed that someone could fire a normal plasma rifle, but it is 1.4 times heavier and uses up ammo twice as fast.

* * *

Okay, so here's how this is going to go down. I have no idea what should be happening when these two worlds meet. I just bought my first Halo game a few weeks ago. I have no idea how the weapons and armor will match up [Later Note: As you can see, I'm working on it]. That's your job. You message me with ideas about particular events that you want to see, particular weapons you want to be in here, battle plans, character names, and pretty much everything else that you want, and I'll take the best ideas and throw them into this story. I do want to put out a disclaimer, though: this is MY story made of YOUR ideas. All ideas will be credited to the user from which they came, but by submitting them to me you give me full right to use them and edit them within the context of this story. I will offer no explanation for not updating regularly. I might not respond to your messages. I will ignore all whining about "But you said that you would listen to me!" as well as any future ideas from that individual user. We're mostly adults and teens here, people. Let's try not to act like "that 12-year-old noob" that we all know and loath (no offense to any mature 12-year-old noobs that don't constantly whine about not being given free stuff on mmorpg's). I'm not trying to be "that guy" who's all legalistic about this, but I just want to cover my bases. Oh, and if you come up with any funny lines for this thing, feel free to send them, too. I always love a little humor with my blood and gore.

* * *

Add-on: I'm writing the first chapter of this thing blind right now and I need some advice about where to go. What kind of story do you want? Do you want pure action, or a little romance thrown in? Do you want the spacecraft from Zeta to be destroyed or serve as a meeting ground between the BoS and the Covenant? Do you want the Sangheli to break from the Covenant like they do in the cannon universe, or do you want them to stick it out, or do you want a bigger break with the Covenant? And how do you want it to happen? Are the Forerunners in the Fallout Universe, or should I go even further back to the Precursors? And what are those Precursors like? Is the Fallout Universe within the history of the Halo Universe? (I'm aware that there was a Tier-1 Human empire prior to the flood thanks to the wikis that I am scouring for as much info as I can) Do the Covenant meet the Zeta Aliens? If so, what happens? ARE the Zeta Aliens the early Precursors? There are a lot of variables here, and I need some advice about where to take this. What can you come up with?

* * *

I'm just putting this out there. This story had triple the amount of people viewing it for its first three days than my other story, Searching for an Identity, and just as many follows. When I get 100 followers, I'll be sure to throw a cookie (in the form of a really, really special chapter that I do actually have planned out) to my readers. I'm still looking for ideas, and I can't get the second chapter out without them. I did say that YOU would be writing the plot for this story, and I really don't want to release a chapter with no input of any kind. Again, feel free to give me "stupid" ideas. I love 'em!


	2. Chapter 2

If you're reading this, I just want to thank you for sticking through that long intro. Sorry about that, but there's a lot that has to happen in the Fallout universe to give the wastelanders a fighting chance. Well, here's the story of how the Covenant fleet ended up in orbit around the wrong Earth. And, for the record, _Long Night of Solace_ was not destroyed by Noble Team in the Battle of Reach. The slipspace drive failed to activate when Jorge hit the button. *spoiler alert*

* * *

Covenant Supercruiser _Long Night of Solace_: Bridge

T-0:07

"Arbiter, slip-space coordinates are set for Earth."

"Very well, Shipmaster; engage slip-space drive."

"Engaging... Arbiter!" Alarms started sounding across the bridge.

"What is it Shipmaster?"

"I don't know sir, but something seems to be wrong with the slip-space drive!"

"Shipmaster! Arbiter!" called an Uggnoy from his post.

"What?!" they both answered at the same time.

"Intruders detected! Moving fast from engineering!"

"My gods…" whispered Shipmaster Jhalnee.

One of the Uggnoy jumped out of his chair and started running around in circles. "We're all gonna' die!" he shouted.

"Back to your post!" ordered Arbiter Vadumee. "Helm, abandon the jump!"

"Too late sir! We're committed!" shouted the Uggnoy.

"Escape pods off-line, sirs!"

"Slip-space portal opening… what in the name of…"

Instead of its usual friendly white circle, the portal opening was a sickly purple, crackling with electricity, and pulling the _Duty Bound_ and the rest of the Covenant fleet into its gaping maw.

"Forerunners protect us…" whispered every soul in the doomed fleet.

* * *

UNSC _Feathersoft_: Bridge

T-5:39

"Alright Maverick Team, lock and load."

_Maverick… I'll never get used to that._ Nobel Six (_No, _Maverick_ Six_), known to his friends as Jerome and his enemies as (roughly translated) Black Demon, checked his weapons again, a habit he had developed early on Reach. "Never hurts, always helps" he would say whenever anyone would tell him that he was paranoid. He pulled out the clip of his MA37, checked to make sure that there were 32 rounds inside, and slammed it back in.

He looked over at the green-armored Spartan-II sitting next to him. Master Chief Petty Officer John-117 was a picture of calm and control. If the stories were true, and he suspected they were, then that never, ever changed.

"You okay, Jerome?" He looked back at the silver and red Spartan-IV behind him, designation Maverick One.

"Never better, Cass. I'm always a little antsy before I get to kill covies."

"Good luck with that with the Chief around," joked Zurich, the heavy-weapons specialist, in his deep, Russian-accented voice. _Why are all heavy-weapons guys Russian?_ This got a chuckle out of the famous soldier.

"I'll try to leave a few for you guys. No promises, though."

This got a laugh out of everybody. "_Twenty seconds to contact_," the pilot announced.

"Let's release the panic," said Torres. With a drumming intro, one of his favorite alt-metal songs started playing over their comms.

_I don't mean to, to alarm you,_

_Can't you see that it overtakes you_

"_Docking procedure complete_"

_You're declining, disintegrating,_

"Move! Move! Move!"

_You're gonna' lose it all,_

_There's no escaping_

As the ancient guitar riffed its battle hymn, Jerome leapt out of the air-lock. He locked sights on his first target, a squad of five grunts, and mowed them down. Then the Chief was beside him, concentrating his fire on a brute while Jerome went rifle-to-rifle with an elite. Jerome swung the butt of his rifle up and caught the beast under its mandibles, but it recovered enough to throw a punch. Jerome blocked it with his fore-arm, letting the MJOLNIR Mark-V armor absorb the impact while taking the opportunity to drop his rifle and pull out his knife. He quickly stabbed the elite in the chest, draining its shield and hitting one of its two hearts. The monster staggered back a little, its discolored blood spurting all over the ground, but it roared defiantly and fired a quick burst at Jerome with its plasma rifle. His training kicked in and he dodged the blasts, rolling out of the way and over his own rifle, which he picked up. He finished off the elite, taking its semi-rare plasma rifle as a trophy.

"Jerome! Quit playing around and let's get moving!" he turned around to see Kevin, the orange-clad sniper of Maverick team out of the air-lock and motioning him down the hall. They sprinted through the cruiser, following the trail of bodies left by the others and taking out the occasional grunt that happened to be passing through. They heard the sound of gunfire and increased their speed. Jerome grabbed a couple of plasma grenades along the way.

Jerome and Kevin rounded the corner and found Maverick Team trying to gun their way through a large hanger. As they watched, a Banshee rose up, trying to get a firing angle on them, but then stopped half-way up. Jerome looked to his right to see Kevin aiming his DMR at it. "Did you just shoot the pilot without hitting the Banshee?"

"You wanna' drive?"

"Oh, hell yeah."

Jerome activated his Jet Pack and flew over to the Banshee. He opened the canopy and pulled out the late pilot. It was strange how humans could just instinctively operate any Covenant-made vehicles, but he put the thought away. Taking the alien controls, he maneuvered the fighter to the other side of the hanger, aimed, and fired at the Covenant forces, first raking the plasma blasts over the helpless ground forces then turning his cannons on the Banshees and Seraphs on the ground, putting them permanently out of commission.

He armed one of the plasma grenades that he had picked up and stuck it to the seat as he jumped out, cushioning his fall with his legs. The explosive was timed to go off the second his legs hit the ground.

"'Bout time you got here," remarked Torres.

"Well, you know me. Always taking the scenic route."

"Cortana says the slip-space drive is just down the next hallway. Let's go."

"You heard the Chiefsicle, let's move!" said Cass.

"I'll just pretend I didn't hear that."

They set off at a full sprint. "Hey Chief, why isn't there an alarm going off?" asked Kevin.

"Cortana shut down their in-house communications, and we didn't exactly leave anyone alive to tell the tale."

"I noticed that," said Jerome.

Torres opened the door to the slip-space drive main control room. Jerome noticed four grunts at the controls with their backs to the door, one very bored-looking brute, and a lot of noise coming from his gun.

Then he noticed a lot of blood, organs, and body parts on the controls, one very dead-looking brute, and some smoke curling up from the end of his gun.

"That was easy," said Cass.

* * *

Covenant Supercruiser _Long Night of Solace_: Bridge

T-0:07

"Arbiter, slip-space coordinates are set for Earth."

"Very well, Shipmaster; engage slip-space drive."

"Engaging... Arbiter!" Alarms started sounding across the bridge.

"What is it Shipmaster?"

"I don't know sir, but something seems to be wrong with the slip-space drive!"

"Shipmaster! Arbiter!" called an Uggnoy from his post.

"What?!" they both answered at the same time.

"Intruders detected! Moving fast from engineering!"

"My gods…" whispered Shipmaster Jhalnee.

One of the Uggnoy jumped out of his chair and started running around in circles. "We're all gonna' die!" he shouted.

"Back to your post!" ordered Arbiter Vadumee. "Helm, abandon the jump!"

"Too late sir! We're committed!" shouted the Uggnoy.

"Escape pods off-line, sirs!"

"Slip-space portal opening… what in the name of…"

Instead of its usual friendly white circle, the portal opening was a sickly purple, crackling with electricity, and pulling the _Duty Bound_ and the rest of the Covenant fleet into its gaping maw.

"Forerunners protect us…" whispered every soul in the doomed fleet.

Except, of course, for the humans.

* * *

Well, I got impatient waiting for ideas so I went ahead and wrote the next chapter. Seriously, though, I can't keep doing this. I need input from people to make this story as good as you want it to be. So, if you have ideas, please message them to me. Like I said before, 100 follows equals a really, really special chapter. Also, how did you like the action scenes? They're actually some of the first action scenes that I've ever written, so I'm looking for some input. Are they too fast, too slow, or just right? For all you Master Chief fans out there, did I get his character right? And was my depiction of the Covenant forces accurate or nerfed?

I'll be adding the Fallout universe next chapter. That's when I'm really going to need ideas.

PS: If you're looking for that song, that was Release the Panic by Red.

* * *

Okay, so it's two days after I last updated this and I can officially say that I am wowed by the number of people reading this. My "viewed" numbers jumped about 60% in two days, so thanks to everybody who read it. In case you're still wondering about how I want the ideas to come in, it's send-and-forget. You don't need to be a regular submitter, I'm just looking for input. If you had a thought while reading this, send it over. The plot is supposed to be mostly YOUR story, not mine.

* * *

So, it's the same day that I posted Ch. 4 and got my first review, and I can honestly say that this is my most successful story ever. Thank you for reading this, but I'm sad to say that this will be the last Halo Chapter until the two worlds meet. As of right now, I can pretty accurately say that there will be at least three chapters of Fallout before they meet, and I just wanted to mention that your ideas are really, really needed as to how these worlds come together and which characters should make the introductions and if they should meet over bullets or a beer.


	3. Chapter 3

Well, it's been a month at least, but with no input I go slowly. Without further ado, heeeeeeeeeeeeeere's Fallout!

* * *

Star Paladin Kyle Thompson leaned over the map of the pre-war gas station outside of DC. A medium-sized group of raiders intent on returning to their former lives had holed up inside and Kyle's mission was rather straightforward: kill them all.

Even though he was protected in the brand-new T-53a Power Armor, it didn't pay to be reckless, and if the new kid was going to be a permanent addition to his squad, she had to learn the planning phases. For 17-year-old Initiate Jane Nakamura, this was her first field operation. She had scored exceptionally high on the B&E portion of the final test for recruits, that's "Break and Enter," so she had been assigned to his squad on a temporary basis with a possibility of a permanent assignment if she proved herself as determined by Star Paladin Thompson. Long story short, if she messed up once then it would be back to the ranks for her. Kyle had never had a temp fail yet, and he wasn't planning to start with this kid.

"Okay, so here's the layout: one door to the front, one from the shop, two windows flanking the front door, three along the side opposite the garage, and flimsy walls all around," started Tyson, the recon specialist. He had an uncanny knack for getting into places that he shouldn't be, one that he had used to the squad's advantage both in the field and at home. Really, how else was the squad going to be armed with the best weapons the Brotherhood had to offer? "They're posting two guards outside, guarding the door. One of them is armed with an R91 and the other's got a 10mm SMG. Their post gives them full view of everything for five hundred yards, and there's not much cover from that direction. The guards rotate every hour and one does a sweep of the backside every ten minutes. The backside is covered with a lot of loose rocks which won't exactly help with stealth. If we tried to make it up that side, they'd raise the alarm."

"What's so bad about an alarm? I thought raiders didn't have anything that could penetrate our armor," questioned Jane.

"Even raiders can get their hands on a Fat Man or Missile Launcher," said Kyle. "Trust me, I know. Proceed."

"Yes sir. One notable fact about the rotation of the guards: even though they are guarding the front door, when they change shifts they always enter and exit the side door. I believe that they may have booby-trapped the front door and are using the guards' position to fool any attackers into using that means of entry. That's all, sir."

"Good. Jane, how would you approach this?" The initiate looked nervous, like she would screw up. "It's okay, I won't let you make a mistake."

Jane started nervously. "Well, if the front door is booby-trapped then we would either need to use the side door or the windows. I remember that windows are never fun in Power Armor, so I would say that we should silently take out the guards and then use the door from the shop."

Kyle nodded. "Not bad, and I would have expected no less from a soldier of your caliber with your experience. Does anyone have any comments regarding this plan?"

Jared, the squad's first sniper, raised his hand. "It's nothing serious, but I got to wonder: how would you time this?"

Kyle looked at the younger soldier. Jane thought for a moment and said "I guess we would take out the guards after they make their last round and then head in when it's time for the shift to change. That way they'll be expecting someone to knock on the door."

Kyle smiled encouragingly and nodded. "Well done, Initiate. You recognized the problem with the obvious route, the front door, and proposed an alternate solution." It seemed as though a weight had been lifted from the younger soldier's shoulders. "Jared, take Karen and set up shop at maximum effective range on the front side. I'll trust your judgment on the exact location. Take the shot on their last look around the back." Jared and Karen nodded. Karen was an excellent shot with her sniper rifle and was the squad's second sniper, doubling as Jared's spotter when necessary. "Tyson, I want you to spot for them. Keep your eyes moving, and don't stare at the targets. Your job is to make sure that no one sneaks up on them from behind." Tyson opened his mouth to say something, but Kyle silenced him with a raised gauntlet. "I know that you want to be part of the action, but Jane needs to get her feet wet and this is the perfect time for her to do it." Tyson nodded, resigned to his temporary fate. "Jane, you, me, and Alex are going to be the first team in." Alex was their designated demolitions master, but he was also really good with the MB-2. "Leroy, Mike, and Juan are going to be the second team." Leroy was the squad's jack-of-all-trades, useful for everything. Mike was the tech master, capable of hacking anything with a lock or keyboard, and Juan was the medic. "Sniper team, get set-up; assault team, let's roll out."

The two snipers set up five hundred and fifty yards away from the guards on the crest of a small hill, covered with trees and a couple of burned-out cars. They left their scopes covered, not wanting to attract attention to the glare of the glass, laid out their mats, and played the waiting game.

The most boring thing about sniping is the waiting, and waiting, and waiting, and waiting, all the time needing to watch to ensure that their spotter scope never left the target. Most of the time, if he was working in a team, Jared would compare the other's rifle and calculate which rifle would be more deadly with the exact load they were carrying against the exact opponent they were facing in the exact location that they were in.

Jared was carrying a silenced Anti-Material .50 caliber rifle loaded with lead-tipped sub-sonic hollow-point rounds. He calculated that, given the fact that he could hit the neck every single time and his chosen target was wearing no armor over that spot, it would stop the target cold in a matter of milliseconds, which was about enough time for the victim to register that he had been shot, but not enough for him to make a noise. Also, since the bullets were sub-sonic, there was a smaller chance of them going through the neck and hitting the wall beyond, alerting the raiders inside. Karen was packing a silenced .308 Sniper Rifle modeled after the rifle found by the Courier that was from the Gobi campaign. Loaded with the same sub-sonic ammo, albeit in a different caliber, the difference between the two guns essentially came down to the size of the bullet. The .308 was smaller, and so less effective against armored opponents, but usually more effective against un-armored enemies if it wasn't loaded with the sub-sonic rounds that would, if combined with a silencer, render the shot almost completely undetectable to the observer. Because both weapons were firing at sub-sonic levels, there was no difference in velocity and so the only factors that mattered were the punch of the bullet and the price for that momentum. Jared's rifle having a higher caliber, it obviously had more punch, but it came at the expense of an additional five caps per bullet. When facing a mostly unarmored opponent and aiming at the neck, even a simple .22 hollow-point bullet would be sufficient. All in all, Jared determined, to his disappointment, that his rifle was, though slightly more powerful, much less efficient, making Karen's rifle the better choice for the situation.

Kyle listened for the signal to go. Outside, he was a picture of calm, but inside his mind he was playing a furious mental game with himself. In order to keep himself sharp for anything that might happen, he would run through simulation after simulation of the operation, examining every possibility and determining a better course of action. Soon after completing the last simulation, one in which they had done everything right prior to opening the door and had to face fifteen Metal Blasters in the hands of heavily-armored raiders and determined that this would be a minor setback versus a catastrophic disturbance to the mission, otherwise known as "everybody dies," the report came in. "_Last scan, he's just leaving._" "Copy that, over watch. Ready your weapons for when he comes around but before he comes into sight of the other." "_Copy Bull 01, firing in thirty seconds._"

"Permission to speak sir?" asked Jane.

"Speak up, Initiate. And never ask for permission from me."

"Yes sir. I'm wondering, who's going in first?"

"I will. If there's a trap, I have the best armor to take it. You're third. You know what your role is?"

"Mop-up targets that you don't get. In other words, walk in with my gun on my back."

Kyle smiled. "We're good, but only Lyon's Pride's that good. Keep your gun in your hands," he said as he put his helmet on.

She gave him a half-grin as she slid her helmet into place. "Yes sir."

Kyle couldn't help but like the kid, but she still hadn't gotten her first kill. There was no telling what that could do to a person. Some withdrew into themselves for days, even weeks at a time, and then emerge a completely different person, usually quieter, almost intense. Others are a little shocked for a few minutes, have nightmares for a couple of nights, then learn how to deal with it and emerge with their personality mostly unchanged. Finally, some people actually find that they like it. In moderation, this can be a good thing. No hesitation to shoot, a boost of confidence, and increased adrenaline always help in that line of work as long as they can channel this new-found love towards the enemy. But, if it's a full-blown case of the "shoots," as it's known, most of the time the person has to be eliminated before they become a danger to others. Kyle had seen it happen a few times, and the results were never pretty.

"_Firing._" Kyle heard four soft _thunk_'s as the newly-made, headless cadavers hit the ground, following their bleeding heads. The assault team moved to the side door, keeping low beneath the windows.

At the prescribed time, Kyle knocked on the door. Nobody answered. He heard some talking inside. He knocked again. "Don't get your panties in a twist, I'll get the door," the soldiers heard from the inside. After a little rustling, the door opened and Kyle let loose with the B4-A, literally juicing the late Raider coming to relieve his late companion. Kyle stepped through the mass of blood, guts, and armor on the doorstep and went low to the left, picking off raiders with quick bursts of three shots, aided by the laser sight. Alex went high, cauterizing huge holes in Raiders and the walls behind them with his MB-2, usually just called the Metal Blaster. At a range of ten feet, the MB-2 fired in a semi-random circle about three feet wide, making it more than capable of crisping multiple raiders in one hit, as Alex demonstrated again, and again, and again, turning most of them into nothing more than glowing piles of ash on the floor.

Then Jane walked through the door. She pulled out her Laser Rifle that seemed to require two MFC's, one on each side, and took cover behind the counter. She made headshot after headshot, leaving the unfortunate Raiders still aiming with no heads to aim with. _What did she do to her gun?_ wondered Kyle, but it would have to wait.

Thankfully, it didn't have to wait too long.

Kyle looked at the clock on his HUD. The whole operation, from first entry to last kill, took 11.739 seconds. For an assault team of their caliber, this was better than acceptable.

Alex started picking up the Raiders' guns which included a couple of Laser Rifles, a B4-S belonging to a late BoS scout, and a plasma pistol.

Jane took off her helmet and shot a huge smile at her Paladin. "Can we do it again?"

_Yep, option number three for sure._ Kyle took off his helmet and matched her smile. A_nd definitely the good kind._ He pulled out the official Bull Squad stencil and his trusty spray gun. A total of seven of the 29 kills went to her. She needed to speed up her shooting, but had kept her head in the line of fire and done what needed to be done. In Kyle's book, she had definitely earned her spot in the squad. "Initiate, attention!" Jane snapped ramrod-straight, her T-51b Power Armor clanking as her legs came together and her hands locked in place at her sides. Two white Brahmin skulls made their way onto her left shoulder plate while her first chevron and official call number, 2-4, appeared on her right. He also sprayed seven small cross-hairs down the left side of her breast plate, one for each headshot kill. Initiate Jane Nakamura saluted Paladin Kyle Thompson, who returned her salute. "Welcome to Bull Squad, Knight Jane Nakamura."

* * *

PS: I'll just keep doing set-up until I get some input. And believe me, I have set-up that I can do. Honestly, I don't know how to make them meet or how to get the Spartans down to Earth without the Covenant finding out. Best idea right now: gravity. If you like the story so far, shoot me a message about it! :)

* * *

PPS: It is 2/11, one day after I posted this, and the views have just shot through the roof. Thanks to everyone reading this, and hopefully I'll get a few followers soon. I'll be posting the next stall chapter some time between 7:00 and 9:00 PST on 2/14. That could be the last one before the worlds collide if I get some ideas to make this YOUR story, as advertised. If not, I have at least one more. I promise that I won't make these lame, but I can do set-up gun-fighting action all day long.


	4. Chapter 4

Okay, so it's not the day I advertised, but I've been really busy with scholarships and Eagle projects and homework and frankly, if you've ever been through Senior year on your way to college, you know exactly what I'm going through. Anyway, here's Brad and Boone!

* * *

Paladins Brad and Boone Thompson were pounding through the wastes looking for something to kill, their Power Armor the only sound in the quiet of the wasteland north of DC. Brad had shouldered his Gatling Laser for the more maneuverable Laser Rifle, which had been modified for better efficiency, burst-fire, and accuracy by his brother. As Knights, they were the lone survivors of a failed expedition to DC that had cost the Brotherhood fourteen Knights and four Paladins. Upon their return, having faced Deathclaws, Yao Guais, Raiders, leftover Super Mutants, and low batteries on their Power Armor, they were given the rank of Paladin and a permanent assignment: keep the wasteland free of trash.

Basically, what their dad had loved doing the most.

Clint Thompson hadn't been a diplomat. At heart, he was a ranger who loved helping people and gutting animals. His definition of "animals" back in the Mojave had included Legionnaires, Fiends, Jackals, Vipers, and other assorted wildlife native to Nevada and California. Although he hadn't always been there for his sons, a fact which he frequently regretted, during his time with them he was able to share his love for the hunt.

And hunting is what Thompsons do best.

Boone had modified his helmet to allow him to hear much better while canceling out sounds like the _chink chink chink_ of Power Armor, while Brad tapped into his brother's ear pieces. Somewhere near a pre-war Power Plant, they heard voices.

"Hark, the Herald Angel sings," said Boone.

"Glory to the new-born King," agreed Brad. The lyrics to the pre-war song were their code for "I hear something," and "I hear it too," just in case the bad guys ever monitored radio. Most did.

Brad clipped his rifle to the left side of the pack on his back and unhooked the large Gatling Gun. Boone's Green Scream, his full-auto double-barrel Plasma Rifle, was already in his hands.

Boone used another feature he had built into his helmet to scan the plant. "Epsilon Tango, Code Delta. Position Epsilon." {Eight targets, guns but no lasers, plasma, explosives, or Power Armor. They're not patrolling or standing guard or paying too much attention.}

"Alpha or Omega?" {Kill first or ask questions first?}

"Omega." {Let's check before we splatter their brains.}

Keeping their guns at passive ready, or held across the body pointing away from the targets, the two Paladins advanced towards the strange group of people. When they came into visual range, Boone realized something: they weren't humans (not in the conventional sense, anyway). They were ghouls in ragged pre-war Combat Armor, Reinforced with R91 Assault Rifles, Combat Shotguns, and even two sniper rifles. When they saw the two humans, they stood, grabbing their rifles and pointing them at Brad and Boone. The only reason they survived that was because they didn't fire.

"Identify yourself!" one called in his raspy voice.

"I'm Boone, and this is Brad. Lower your weapons, we're not here to hurt you."

"Oh yeah? And why should I believe you, smoothskin? We've been shot at and run-off by every town in the United States for almost 250 years. We can barely find a place to sleep at night that won't get us killed. We haven't found a single man that can even look us in the eyes without crying 'zombie!' I'm finding it hard to believe that you can be any different."

"Well for starters, you're not dead yet," said Boone.

The ghoul appeared to consider this. "True."

"And because we haven't yelled 'zombie,'" added Brad. "Look, I can't begin to unravel 250 years of history between you and normal humans, but are we acting like the other smoothskins you're encountered?"

"Wait, you mean you're not going to try to kill us?" asked one of the others.

"No, we're not," replied Boone. "We're looking for _something_ to kill, but it's not you or any other non-feral ghoul."

At this, first one ghoul and then the others lowered their weapons. Then the first one who talked, apparently the leader, walked towards the Brotherhood soldiers. "Well, I suppose a more civilized introduction is called for after that." The ghoul straightened up and saluted, a crisp military salute. "Sergeant Jonathan Andrews, formerly US Army Special Forces, based in Sitka, Alaska at the time of the Great War." He gestured to the others. "These are my men, all first-class fighters, trained by the best and hardened by the wastes." He turned back to the brothers. "I apologize for drawing weapons on you earlier."

"No, we understand," said Brad. "We'd do the same thing in your position."

Boone nodded in confirmation. "Actually, there are a few ghouls and even Super Mutants serving in our ranks. They're not an uncommon sight around the Citadel."

"Citadel?" asked Sergeant Andrews.

"Yeah, you might remember it as the Pentagon."

A look of shock crossed the ghoul's face. "W-what? The Pentagon fell?!"

Brad cocked his head. "Dude, how long have you been out of it? It fell 250 years ago."

"No, that can't be. We just heard in Los Angeles that the United States was being restored in DC. The Pentagon was the seat of American military power. What happened?"

"The happenings you're talking about happened fifty years ago. The Enclave tried to restore the United States government, but they were stopped by one man."

"One man stopped the United States… that's impossible! The United States was the most powerful country in the world."

Boone laughed. "Yeah, the operative word being 'was.' Actually, the Enclave turned into more of a genocidal campaign against Wastelanders because they thought that only 'pure' humans were really worthy of citizenship."

"That's not the America I remember."

Boone shook his head. "No, probably not. I hear about it all the time, how old America had a Constitution, Bill of Rights, democracy, all that, but the Enclave wasn't interested in that. They just wanted to rule everyone. Anyone who got in their way was killed."

The old American ghoul slumped his shoulders at the news, but then he straightened up with a quizzical look in his eyes. "Wait a minute, if the United States is gone, then who are you?"

Boone looked at his brother, silently asking if his brother knew what Andrews meant. Brad shrugged and shook his head. Boone looked back at Andrews. "What do you mean?"

"I know Power Armor when I see it. I saw it when it first came out in the war, and I'm seeing it on you now. I know you can't just pick it up and wear it. Who taught you?"

"Well," Boone said, "the Brotherhood of Steel, our faction, was originally a US Army Power Armor detachment at Fort Mariposa in California. Over the years, we've migrated out here and developed new kinds of Power Armor."

"And how are you different from the Enclave?"

Boone answered. "The Brotherhood was founded just before the bombs dropped. It was discovered that the American government had been experimenting on prisoners of war, turning them into horrible monsters, so you might say that about two hundred and fifty Power Armor troops quit the Army for reasons of conscience. They sent an official letter to the government pulling Fort Mariposa out of the United States and everything. The government might have responded had the bombs not dropped the next day.

"Fort Mariposa was a military research base, so it was shielded from radiation and other nasty side-effects of the bombing. After the bombing stopped, the Brotherhood, as they called themselves, traveled to a bunker in the hills with their wives and children, using their Power Armor and other protective gear to shield themselves from the radiation. After some disputes with the NCR about how to use technology and what kind of technology should be collected, they left California and traveled to the Mojave Wasteland near where New Vegas used to be, where our dad encountered them.

"Our dad recruited them into joining the NCR in pushing Caesar's Legion out of New Vegas before assisting them in ridding the Mojave of the NCR as well, and after that one of their members joined him in ridding the Wasteland of raiders, slavers, and generally anyone who made a habit of mischief. After a few years, someone set off a nuke in the middle of New Vegas and destroyed everything. That's when our dad, the Western Brotherhood, and a few others left the Mojave to join the East Coast Chapter of the Brotherhood over here in the Capitol that had been sent over about fifty years prior. Originally, the East Coast Chapter had just wanted to grab technology and go home, but they decided to stay and help the local people with their Super Mutant problem. That is exactly why we're different from them. We help, not conquer."

The ghoulified soldier looked thoughtful, but before he could speak, they heard someone yell "Kill the zombies and cook the cans!" They turned to see a group of about fifteen Enclave Hellfire troopers.

_Enclave?! They're alive?!_ thought Boone as he pulled the Green Scream to his shoulder. "_I'll_ cook your genocidal ass! Suck my plasma cannon!" Boone depressed the trigger, and a torrent of plasma splashed against the first trooper, melting through his armor and leaving gaping black holes in his chest…

… except it didn't. The deadly blasts just splashed against his chest, leaving no marks whatsoever. The trooper laughed. "Hahahaha! You call that a Plasma Rifle? _This_ is a Plasma Rifle!" When he pulled his trigger, an electric blue (_Wait, blue?! It's supposed to be green!_) blast appeared and flew almost faster than the eye could see, melting Boone's helmet and incinerating his brains before exiting out the back…

… except it didn't. "W-wait, what!?" stammered the trooper. "Y-you're shielded too?!"

"I see now why your kind wasn't exactly known for brains. Of course I'm shielded, it's standard-issue you moron."

Upon hearing this, the Hellfire trooper lowered his super-powered Plasma Rifle in shock. "It would seem as though we've arrived at an impasse," said Brad. "It's obvious our weapons can't hurt you, and it's equally obvious that your weapons can't hurt us."

"We can still kill the shufflers! Let's do it!" One of the other troopers raised his rifle to obliterate Andrews, but then Boone stepped in the way.

"You know, until about five minutes ago these ghouls idolized you. This man is Sergeant Jonathan Andrews, formerly of the US Army Special Forces. And I doubt that he likes being called 'shuffler.'"

"Well, what are you going to do about it?"

"Better question: what are you going to do about it?"

"I'll give you 'shuffler'!" Andrews raised his rifle, but Brad pushed it down.

"Hey, we hate these guys more than you man, but there's nothing either of us can do about it right now, and we're not about to start wasting ammo on things we can't kill."

Boone nodded in agreement, then turned to the Hellfire troopers. "So, how about you? Call it a draw and save some ammo?"

"Not on your life," said the one who had been so intent on shooting Andrews. He pulled a Super Sledge off his back.

T-53a Power Armor can take a lot of beatings from ranged weapons, but one hit from a Super Sledge can dent it. Two can crack it. Three is a knock-out hit. "Oh shit, this guy is serious." Boone dropped his rifle and pressed his wrists together. Reinforced electrified Chinese Officer Swords shot out like twin switchblades. _All I need is one good shot at a limb and I can EMP that punk_. But before they could start, the Enclave leader said something.

"Trooper, hold up. Hey Brotherhood, can those swords penetrate our Power Armor?"

"Actually they're designed to cripple it, and they were effective against the last Hellfire armor we had access to."

"In that case, I'll make you a deal. We're both civilized soldiers, aren't we? Since we can't shoot our way through this, we'll decide the winner in a one-on-one melee battle to the death. Hothead's our best so I'll let him do our fighting, and since you're the one who accepted his challenge you do the fighting for yourselves and the ghouls. If you win, we leave, taking only his body. If we win, we take you prisoner."

"How is that fair?" shouted Brad.

"It's fair because we out-number you. We could just over-power you in a melee battle and take you all prisoner, but I'm in the mood for a fair fight."

"I accept," said Boone. "Draw the square."

The Enclave troopers started laughing. "What's so funny?" asked Brad.

"I said I was in the mood for a fair fight, not a wrestling match!" answered their leader when he could catch a breath. "This fight will be hunter-killer."

"What's hunter-killer?" asked Boone.

"Hunter-killer is a game we play to keep our stalking skills up to par. First, we need a building with multiple stories. In the training version, the objective is for the soldier on the higher level to sneak past the soldier coming up and reach the front door without being seen. In the version that you're about to play, the soldier at the bottom needs to hunt the soldier at the top, while the soldier at the top needs to kill the soldier at the bottom first. Hunter-killer, see? The winner needs to cut off the other's head and bring it out for verification to prove that he didn't cheat."

Sergeant Andrews looked horrified. "I thought you said you were civilized. That's barbaric!"

The Enclave trooper chucked. "That's real rich coming from you, corpse."

Boone held him back. "Are there any other rules?"

The trooper nodded. "Yep. Both soldiers' load-outs need to be checked and approved by both sides and the building needs to be scoured for additional weapons and ammunition. Also, the soldier at the top is the only one who can know how the building is laid-out, since he's the one being hunted."

"What weapons can I bring?"

"Usually we allow anything unless it's an explosive, but for this round we'll only allow melee weapons." He chuckled. "Wouldn't be much good bringing anything else in, anyway, since all armors are allowed. I will need to make sure that you aren't packing any hidden guns in those gauntlets of yours, and if you are I'll need you to unload them. I'll expect no less of you."

Boone nodded. "Very well, I agree to your conditions. Shall we choose this old power plant here?"

"Not enough levels. We need something bigger." He cast his eyes over the landscape. "Look almost directly north-west of here. Do you see that office tower?" Boone looked, and sure enough he did see a three-story office tower just sitting in the middle of the wastes.

"I see it."

"We'll go there. No offense, but I'll need you to take your helmets off for this. I don't want you calling for help."

"No offense to you, but we don't trust you either," said Boone. "As soon as we take our helmets off you'll just shoot us."

"I suppose it wouldn't help if I gave you my word?"

"Not really."

"Well, then how are we going to do this?"

"Simple," said Brad. "You take your helmets off too and walk in front of us."

"What, so you can shoot us?"

"No, because one of your men with his helmets _on_ and a raised plasma pistol would be behind _us_. If they shoot us, the rest of you die, but if we shoot you, we'll die."

"A giant game of chicken. I like it. I do reserve the right to keep my weapon in my hands."

"That's fine. If we can really trust you, we don't need to worry about it."

"And the ghouls?"

"Let 'em go, they're not part of this fight."

"I made them part of this fight."

Brad sighed. "Andrews?"

"We'll go since we don't have much of a choice, but we're not putting our weapons down."

Boone turned back to the trooper. "They'll walk with us, pistols only." Andrews started to protest, but Boone held up a hand to stop him. "It's the best we can do. We'll take good care of your rifles, I promise."

"Fine."

The ghouls handed their guns to the Brotherhood soldiers and pulled out their side arms. The Enclave officer, who turned out to be a Hispanic Captain, started walking, obviously nervous but somewhat assured by the presence of the trooper in full armor. Following him were the brothers Brad and Boone and eight ghouls, all with their weapons pointed at the backs of the Enclave troopers' heads. Following them was the insurance for everyone, one Enclave soldier in full gear with a plasma pistol pointed at the back of Brad's head, but not daring to shoot because Boone had his Green Scream pointed at the back of his CO's head.

In this manner they made their way for about a mile before reaching the office building, at which time it was with great relief that everyone re-armed themselves.

"Before we begin, I'm just wondering: how did you survive the extermination?"

"About fifty of us were stationed in a bunker far to the north of DC keeping an eye on New York. When we heard about the main unit, a detachment headed back to see if we could give some assistance, but all they managed to do was grab some armor and weapons off dead troopers and hurry back before they could be seen. Since then we've been re-building our numbers and investing heavily into research, trying to get an unbeatable technological edge on you. We thought it would be the shields, but I guess you also have them. It's a good thing that's not all we looked into."

"What else were you looking into?"

"I don't mind telling you how we survived, but anything beyond that is classified. Now, let's get started with that sweep. I'll send in one of my men and you," he indicated Brad, "to do the sweep. We only find out who's going to be on top right before we start."

"Very well." Brad left to clear the building with one of the Enclave soldiers. They returned about five minutes later carrying two large crates apiece.

"Sir, we found these in the lobby along with several others. We think someone's using this place as a depot."

"Recently, too," added Brad. He set his crates down and pointed at one. "That's the symbol of the Gun Runners. They only started marking their crates a few weeks ago."

"Hold on, I'm friends with a lot of the Gun Runners, and I heard that they've been having some thefts lately," said Boone. "This is probably where the thieves leave their stash."

"Well, they're out of commission now." The captain was silent for a few seconds, then spoke up. "Change of plans. Winner also takes the weapons."

"Deal," said Boone.

The Brad and the Enclave soldier spent several minutes hauling the crates out. Eventually, the stack numbered twenty-seven crates of weapons, armor, and ammunition. "So, who's starting a war?" asked the captain.

"No idea. We've never had anyone want to start anything lately, and this is all pretty serious stuff. Disintegrator rifles, plasma grenades, Power Armor… they knew where to hit, all right," said Boone.

"Well, they're done hitting for now. The sweep's done, Sir," said the Enclave trooper.

The captain nodded. "Then let the games begin."

* * *

Okay, so I finally got a review and I'm up to five followers. That's officially one more than "Searching for an Identity" ever got, so I must be doing something right. Thanks to "Guest" for a review and nice compliment. Now if only you could get me some ideas about how the two worlds should meet...


	5. Chapter 5

Okay, sorry about that mild cliff-hanger. I really don't like those myself, but they're useful if you update frequently, like I do. The only thing I'm going to say about this chapter is that when you see "* * *", it means that I'm switching the POV. Without further ado, here's Chapter 5!

* * *

The Enclave captain told me and the trooper to stand in front of him. "As the challenged, you will call it." He pulled out a pre-war coin. He showed one side with a head on it. "This is heads, and this" he flipped it over "is tails. I'll flip it into the air, and you call either heads or tails. The side it shows when it lands is the side that matters. If you call it right, you choose whether you want to be the hunter or killer. Got it?"

I nodded. "Yeah, simple enough."

The captain flipped the coin in the air. "Heads." It landed on the ground with the head facing up. _If I can see the layout, I'll be able to see ambush points that he won't know about. The hunter may start at the bottom so he can hear the killer above him, but if I don't move then I'll be able to take away his usual advantage. On the other hand, I have scanning equipment in my helmet. I'll know exactly where he is and he'll have no idea where I am. _"I'll be 'hunter.'"

"All right, Hothead, you're 'killer.'" The captain pointed at Brad. "Brotherhood, inspect his load-out." My brother combed over every inch of the trooper's armor, checking and double-checking everything. He pressed every part of every plate to make sure that there were no secret buttons, finding two. One was for a Power Fist that the Hellfire trooper had built into his right foot, presumably to power up his kicks, and the other was a shotgun hidden in his left gauntlet. Brad unloaded the gun.

"Take off your helmet," he said to the other man. He did, revealing a scarred Chinese face with only the left eye. Brad combed over every niche of the helmet, finding a laser assembly built into the right eye socket. "Remove this," he told the trooper. He didn't look too happy about it, but he did as he was asked. After a little more searching, Brad saw something else. "There's a heartbeat sensor in here. I'm not going to object to it, but I feel that it is only fair that Boone knows about it."

"Acknowledged," said the captain.

I thanked Brad for giving me a heads-up, then he went back to his searching. Upon further inspection, he noticed infrared-vision, night-vision, and electromagnetic-vision. He notified me of them, and gave the helmet back to the trooper.

"I'm satisfied. Boone, good luck." I nodded my thanks to my brother for being so thorough.

"Now I'll check your armor," said the captain.

"Before you begin, I'll tell you where the big weapons are. You already saw how I activate my swords. Would you have seen that if I didn't show you?"

He tilted his head. "I guess not."

I smiled, even though he couldn't see me. "Well, there are some particularly dangerous weapons in here that could seriously hurt you if you accidently activated them. First off: my mini-nuke launcher." I blinked twice at the icon on the HUD of my helmet. The small battery back on my back moved to my right as my suit switched to auxiliary power. The pack extended backwards on hydraulic jacks, revealing dual launching assemblies loaded with two mini-nukes. The captain removed them and put them on the ground. I retracted the launchers. "Next, a little something I like to call the HDML, or Handy-Dandy Missile Launcher." I blinked at the symbol for the HDML and my left gauntlet spiraled outward to reveal eight small missiles concealed in the left gauntlet, specifically made for me by the Gun Runners. "The four red-tipped ones are loaded with incendiary rounds, the two yellow-tipped ones are EMPs, and the two green-tipped ones are loaded with nerve gas." The Enclave officer removed all eight.

"If you had all this ordinance, why didn't you fire on us?"

"Because in all of the battles between us and you, neither side has ever used nukes and the missiles are made for anti-personnel, not anti-armor. Call it professional courtesy and a desire to maintain the unofficial truce on nukes."

He tilted his head. "What about Liberty Prime? I read the reports that made it back to use about that thing. It used mini-nukes."

Brad spoke up. "Liberty Prime was loaded with powerful missiles, but they were non-nuclear. Think of them as five missiles combined with an EMP grenade."

He nodded. "I can't confirm that story, but until I can, I'll accept it."

After making the missile launchers spiral back into the gauntlet, I activated my electro-blades. "You already know about these." The Captain nodded for me to proceed. I retracted my blades and showed him the sixteen combat knives I keep hidden on my armor. Two in the boots, two just below the knees, two at my waist, two at my chest, two in my back plate, two on the sides of my helmet, two on my lower arms, and two on my upper arms. Regardless of what position I'm in or what arm is disabled, I can reach one in milliseconds. I couldn't see his face, but I could imagine it. His mouth's hanging open, his eyes are bugging out of his skull… I really wished that I could see it. After a few moments, he nodded. "That's it, feel free to check."

And check he did. By the time he was done, there was not a single crevice he had not prodded, a single plate he had not checked behind, or a single inch of metal he had not checked to make sure that it was just an inch of metal. "I'm still sure he has something in there, but I'm pretty satisfied." _Well, you just got fooled. You missed the scanning equipment between the real inside of my helmet and the outside of it._ "Hothead, it's been a pleasure serving with you."

"Oh, don't get all mushy. You know I kill people like that."

"Well, considering that no one chooses to be hunter unless he knows something I don't, consider it a warning. Now get your metal rear in gear, you have five minutes to check out that building."

"Yes sir." The trooper picked up his Super Sledge and clanked off toward the building. I sat down on a convenient bench.

Brad looked at me. "No sense wasting energy standing up. I'll need all of it soon, brother."

The captain turned and looked at me. "Brother?"

"Yeah, he's my brother."

"You mean blood brother or brother-in-arms?"

"Both," we replied together.

The captain looked down, then back up to me. "I lost my brother in the fight against Liberty Prime." He turned to Brad. "It doesn't make me any less willing to kill you, but I know what you're about to go through."

Brad took off his helmet and looked the captain in the eye. _Please don't say anything stupid!_ "I hate to disappoint you, but I don't think I'll have to feel go through that experience for a long, long time."

He replaced his helmet, as I got up and walked over to him. I put a hand on his shoulder to say "Thanks for not saying anything stupid" and "I'm glad to know you got my back" and "Thanks for the reassurance" all at the same time.

"We'll see," the captain replied.

We waited the remainder of the five minutes in silence. One of the troopers looked up from his wrist.

"It's time, sir."

"Very well. Brotherhood, I wish you luck, not because I want you to survive, but because you'll need every scrap of luck that you can get to make it past Hothead. He's our best infiltration expert, and is equipped with Stealth Boy technology built into his suit. No go have some fun."

_Screw you too, jackass._ I nodded and walked up to the door. I kicked it open and ducked behind the wall. A large metal beam that Hothead had strung up swung out and missed me by inches. "I think I will."

I walked into the killing house and shut the door. Despite my training, I was nervous. I could feel my heart beating in my head.

_Ba-thump . . . Ba-thump . . . Ba-thump . . ._

I took a deep breath and exhaled. Then I turned on my scanner.

I turned my head from left to right on my floor, noting an elevator to the right side of the lobby and a stairway next to it. Behind the counter was a small hallway with three doors leading off of it to the back and two to the front. The two to the front were bathrooms, two to the rear lead to a conference room, and the third was a supply closet. _The stairs are probably booby-trapped. I'll need to take the elevator._ Slipping my gauntleted fingers into the crevice between the doors, I pulled them apart with a rusty shriek. _He might have heard that_. _I'll need to move fast._ I quickly checked where the elevator stopped, _Good, it's at the bottom of the shaft _and cut one of the cables. Looping it twice around my right hand, I pulled, letting my suit do the work. The cable held, and I went up the length on my arm. Winding another section around my left hand a few times, I let go with my right and pulled myself up another arm's length. Then, reaching up with my right hand, I looped the cable around it and pulled myself up another arm's length. I repeated the operation until I arrived at the top floor, being careful not to hit the sides of the shaft. I then activated my scanner again. Relative to the position from which I entered the office building, I was in the back-right corner. I swept my scan over the level. Just outside of the elevator door, I saw a de-activated Sentry Bot. _Sentry Bots carry explosives, ammo, and flamethrowers. I'll bet that I can find something in there. _Beyond the Sentry Bot was a hallway along the front of the building, leading to several offices set back from the walls. There were neither heat signatures nor radiation signatures characteristic of Stealth Boys in any of them, so I paid them no heed. I did make note of a pressure plate outside of one, which meant that there would be something just inside that I might be able to use. It could be anything from a shotgun to a grenade pineapple to a rigged generator. I tried to scan the inside of the room, but for some reason I couldn't penetrate the wall. _I know that I played by the rules, but I can't guarantee that he did. I really do need to be prepared for everything._ The hallway seemed to loop all the way around the building, with one deviation in the far corner: the boss's office, which was given two windows. I saw the characteristic heat signature of a human crouching next to the door. _A patient man, but he forgot that I can penetrate walls with my swords. One well-placed shot at his right arm will disable him. Now, what did he put down the other hallway…_ Down the other hallway, I saw a pile of office junk. Defunct computers, old desks, filing cabinets… you name it, it was piled there. _His play is to force me to go down the left hallway and trip the pressure plate. Failing that, he's ensured that if I walk through the door I'll be met with a Super Sledge to the face. So, I'll do just that, minus tripping the trap._

I activated my left sword and slid it through the crevice between the doors, top to bottom. _Ba-thump . . . Ba-thump . . . Ba-thump . . . _The sharp blade cut through the rust with barely a sound. I retracted the sword and pulled the door open with my left hand, the ancient door squeaking on its rusty tracks and grinding against the gears that held it shut. There was just enough room for me to get through. I scanned the waiting soldier. _Either you don't know what to do or you didn't hear me. As far as I'm concerned, either's good._ I stepped out onto the floor and quietly searched the Sentry Bot for supplies. I found two missiles, some 5mm ammo, and two units of flamer fuel. I kept the missiles and loaded them into the missile launcher on my left arm. _Sure glad I ordered this thing with universal launchers as well as the eight I keep loaded. Now, how did the scan miss this thing, anyway? And why didn't Hothead grab this stuff…_ That's when I realized that a fully-loaded Sentry Bot carries _three_ missiles. This one's exterior was un-marred, except for the rust, dirt, and grime that seemed to accumulate on everything. _I doubt that it fired that missile. Hothead has it, and I think I know where it is._ I did an explosives residue scan of the hallway just outside of the trapped room. _Confirmed. A Sentry Bot missile is specifically designed to penetrate armor, and I don't really feel like trying my luck. So, I suppose the best course of action is to simply cut through the walls between me and him, avoiding that room altogether._ I proceeded to carry out my plan. The rotting wood gave little resistance before my swords, and I made sure to avoid electrical conduits and any rooms that I couldn't scan, all the while keeping tabs on my target. He was completely motionless; a true professional, waiting for his victim. _Well, there's a reason I'm called the hunter._ Finally, I was through to the last office between me and my prey.

_Ba-thump . . Ba-thump . . Ba-thump . ._ Instead of cutting through the wood, I just went through the open door, trying to keep my footsteps silent. I knew that he would know that I was coming with his heartbeat sensor, but he couldn't see that I already had my swords out. I saw the figure tense when he saw my heartbeat coming from the wrong direction, but then relax as I moved past the door. I took my position just on the other side of the wall to the left of the door and lifted my sword, ready to strike…

_Ba-thump . Ba-thump . Ba-thump ._

…and he stood up.

_BumpBumpBumpBumpBumpBumpBumpBump!_

Hothead shattered the door with his Power Fist on his foot, and continued into a sideways stride with the Super Sledge. Boone rolled forwards out of the way and let the weapon shatter the wall that he had been hiding behind just a moment before. He recovered, and tried an over-hand strike. The Brotherhood soldier rolled to the side, letting the sledge hit the floor, and then kicked out at the trooper's right foot making him fall, even though he somehow held onto the Super Sledge.

Boone raised my right blade and touched it to the other's right boot, sending an electric shock through the Enclave Power Armor, causing it to lose power for a few moments. Boone used those moments to take the sledge out of his enemy's hands and throw it down the hall with the trap, activating it.

Explosion… earthquake… light… strike…

Boone powered down his enemy's suit for a few more seconds, then ripped the Enclave soldier's helmet off. He activated his left blade and executed the Enclave soldier, cross-cut style.

_BumpBumpBaumpBathumpBathumpBa-thumpBa-thump . Ba-thump . . Ba-thump . . Ba-thump . . . Ba-Thump . . . Ba-thump . . . Ba-thump . . . _

As my pulse returned to normal, I became aware that I was kneeling on the man I had been hunting, and that there was a little more light than there was before. _Did that explosion… what the hell?_ I stared at the wall just outside of the office where the Sentry Bot's missile had been shot from. _No, correction: where the wall used to be._ Now, there was nothing. He could see clearly down to the floor below through the hole in the floor. Picking up my grisly prize, I hopped down to the floor below. I gave it a quick scan and found only a simple swing trap like the one that had greeted me on the way in. I disarmed it and made my way down the stairs, being extra careful to look for traps. Come to find out, there weren't any. I walked out the front door and…

"Put your hands up!"

* * *

It doesn't take much imagination to guess who said that, but here's the question of the day: who did he say it to? Next chapter will definitely be Halo, seeing as I've done three straight chapters on Fallout, but are they going to meet or am I going to do a flashback? A quick review on the subject would be greatly appreciated and really help this story along. See y'all in Chapter 6!


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